


Désolé

by naasad



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Café Musain, Canon Era, Enjolras is a dick but he makes up for it later, Feels, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, M/M, Unrequited Love, cause we all know what happens next
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: "Do not send me away for this."





	Désolé

**Author's Note:**

> So I did my research for this, and it turns out at the time Les Mis takes place, homosexuality in France was **not** considered a crime **or** a mental illness (that came ~25 years later), and gay, lesbian, and bi communities were beginning to flourish, though cishet peeps were still like "that grosses me out, can you keep it away from me" cause lbr the majority of cishet folks have always been like that. So anyway, if you're looking for 'period typical homophobia', you're not going to find it here. Enjolras is just very tunnel-vision-y like as a person. I really doubt that boy is straight.

"Love is _not_ what revolution's for," Enjolras snapped.

Grantaire stood, nearly knocking his chair off its legs. "And why not?"

"Love," Enjolras sneered, "is a distraction from our calling, from our duty to our kinsmen."

Grantaire lunged, pinning Enjolras to the wall in an uncharacteristic show of strength. "Love is a reason to fight and meet this calling of yours."

"If that's the reason you're here," Enjolras said, slowly, measured, "only because of your love for me, then leave, Grantaire. Go home."

Grantaire recoiled as if struck.

Enjolras pushed off the wall and took a menacing step forward. "Did you think me blind that I would not notice? That you pine after me like a once beloved pet pines after its former master, fantasizing of love that isn't there?"

"Enjolras," Combeferre warned, shocked.

Grantaire laughed, eyes wet. "I didn't know you could be so cruel, Apollo. I am not ashamed of the torch I carry for you. If you feel the need to send me away, then send me away, but not for this."

Enjolras faltered.

"I do not expect you to return my affections," Grantaire said hastily. "I know you only have one true love, and that is France. But, please, do not send me from your side so readily."

Enjolras moved forward, cupping the back of his neck with his palm and resting their foreheads together. After a long moment, he leaned up and pressed his lips to Grantaire's brow.

The other Amis looked away.

"Go home," Enjolras plead, wiping tears from Grantaire's cheeks with his thumb. "Go home and live."

Grantaire turned his head and kissed his fair love's coarse palm. "Permit me to stay one more night. And if death comes tonight, permit me to die beside you."

"You do not have my permission to die," Enjolras said, shaking his head. "But you have my permission to stay."

Grantaire trembled and leaned forward as if to kiss him, then instead, buried his face in his shoulder.

Enjolras held him steadfastly.


End file.
